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Somehow, the cemetery had earned a reputation of being haunted. Emma Lee figured this must be true of every cemetery, to some degree, but Redwood Memorial Gardens had made its way onto a few lists of creepy cemeteries: “The Five Scariest Cemeteries in the Sierras,” “The Top Ten Most Delightfully Haunted Cemeteries in Northern California,” and “California’s Most Haunted Cemeteries.”
None of the things that the websites claimed a visitor might encounter matched with Emma Lee’s experience. She’d never felt the “general dread”; she’d never seen the restless gravedigger with his bloodied shirt, nor the stern woman in the tattered wedding dress. In fact, in her time living next to the cemetery, she’d experienced only two things she couldn’t readily explain.
One night, after a rare winter snow, curled up on the bench seat by her window, she noticed movement somewhere outside. She laid her book on the table and shut off the overhead light, to cut the reflection in the window, and watched as a strange, ethereal light bobbed among the distant trees. She assumed that someone had hopped the fence and was dancing around in the snow with a flashlight or, perhaps, given the eerie quality of the light, an LED lantern. Something like that. She didn’t find it too unusual. It was cold out, sure, but she’d seen people out on late-night strolls plenty of times.
When she went for her walk the next morning, though, she saw no new footprints in the snow—weird, since she knew that it had not snowed overnight: her own footprints from last evening’s walk were still perfectly visible, frozen like a crime scene investigator’s plaster cast.
Another night, as she strolled the grounds under a pale moon, she heard a long, mournful wail. Too perfect, she thought, just like in old ghost movies. She decided it must be the wind, perhaps blowing through gaps in the run-down, brick mausoleum. Perhaps. But there was no wind to speak of, and the sound was coming from the wrong direction.
Anyway, she’d never heard the sound before, and she never heard it again.
“We should have the party next door,” May told her.
May sat, typing furiously into her phone, across the picnic table from Emma Lee. May had been talking about a graduation party for weeks already, mainly as an opportunity to invite some guy or other. Emma Lee didn’t pay too much attention, since the guy changed every few days.
“The cemetery?” Emma Lee asked.
“Hell, yeah,” May said. “It’ll be perfect!”
“You hate the cemetery.”
“I don’t.”
“I think you called it ‘creepy as fuck’?”
“That’s why it’s perfect!”
Emma Lee shook her head. “It’ll be dark. You can’t have lights, or the neighbors’ll call the cops. It’ll be cold.”
“It’ll be fun,” May insisted. “Mike likes the idea.”
“Mike who?”
“You know Mike. Tall? Nose ring?”
“And since when do we care about Mike’s opinion?”
“Ah, c’mon. He’s cute!”
“Mmm,” Emma Lee said. “Flavor of the week.”
“Fuck you,” May laughed.
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Story by Greg Kemble. Art and animation by John David Irvine (thejohnirvine.com).
In addition to reading the series on the blog, you can enjoy “Emily’s Grave” in a few other formats (you’ll find links to all of these versions at the Emily’s Grave (a story) page):
- Videobook (YouTube) – I commissioned my friend and former student John David Irvine—now an award-winning animator—to create an atmospheric animation to accompany the audio version of the story.
- Audiobook (mp3) – Recorded by the author (that’s me!). You can listen to it on the blog or download it.
- Print version (PDF) – If you prefer to read written text, you can view or download a PDF version.
Tip Jar – Pay what you like, if you like.
A-and there’s merch! If you like John’s cover art, check out the shirts, coffee mugs, stickers (and more!) at Redbubble.
About the author (that’s me!)
Close-to-retirement English prof.
Occasional musician, blogger, and writer.
Mildly Introverted, mostly harmless.
About the artist
Multi award-winning artist/animator/filmmaker John David Irvine is known for his unique style of handcrafted animation and darkly surreal imagery. His cryptic work explores identity, queerness, and generational trauma, wading into the everyday horrors that undulate beneath the veneer of the mundane. His award-winning short film COMMON MONSTERS is currently being expanded into his feature film directorial debut.
Check him out at https://thejohnirvine.com.
“Emily’s Grave” © 2021 (text) and © 2023 (audio and video) by Greg Kemble are licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0